


Phantom in the Trees

by FortunesRevolver



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Because Sorey is always dazzled by Mikleo., Give it time., Just not as much as he's USUALLY dazzled., M/M, Post-Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Sorey is dazzled by Mikleo., The OC is only sort of there.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortunesRevolver/pseuds/FortunesRevolver
Summary: When Sorey is tasked with the slaying of a dragon he’s never seen, he’s hesitant to accept it. The dragon, he is told, is dangerous, and has claimed numerous lives. It’s huge; grotesque and ruthless, cutting down anyone who dares invade the mountain pass. But Sorey has travelled to the lower village of Camlann from his home of Elysia for trade countless times, and he’s never seen such a creature.The mountain, he’s believes, is beautiful and lush with fresh green life and a clear, sparkling river that has always provided him with the freshest water. Dragon or wild animal, it doesn’t sit well in his mind that anything which made such a wondrous and peaceful place its home could beevil.





	Phantom in the Trees

When Sorey is tasked with the slaying of a dragon he’s never seen, he’s hesitant to accept it. The dragon, he is told, is dangerous, and has claimed numerous lives. It’s huge; grotesque and ruthless, cutting down anyone who dares invade the mountain pass. But Sorey has travelled to the lower village of Camlann from his home of Elysia for trade countless times, and he’s never seen such a creature.

The mountain, he’s believes, is beautiful and lush with fresh green life and a clear, sparkling river that has always provided him with the freshest water. Dragon or wild animal, it doesn’t sit well in his mind that anything which made such a wondrous and peaceful place its home could be  _ evil. _

* * *

_ “I’m so sorry it has come to this,” the priestess’ remorse is almost palpable in her tone, “but the villagers are terrified.” _

_ Sorey nods in earnest and looks over his shoulder. He watches as the tips of the trees lick the brilliant blue of the sky and turns back. It seems calm enough, but he’s been through the forest enough times to know that something terrible can lurk in the shadows.  _

_ “Has anyone been hurt?” he asks, worried. There are a few people he hasn’t seen lately. Maybe they’re not just sick like he assumed. _

_ “Not from here, no,” the priestess shakes her head. “But many travelers have rushed from the forest and claim the beast slain their comrades or they found… remains. Those who survived were barely able to tell their tale.” _

_ Sorey frowns, but he doesn’t raise question. Surely a dragon would have been noticed by  _ someone. _ The forest is vast and tall, certainly, but it couldn’t be nearly large enough to hide an entire dragon; not this long. He’s travelled it too many times and, despite the warnings of his grandfather, left the worn trail many times. It’s possible the foliage simply expands further than he ever imagined -- he did always make a point to keep the path within in sights. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he worried his family in Elysia. _

_ “What can I do to help, Mother Anibelle?”  _

_ Anibelle smiles, her eyes soft as she squeezes Sorey’s shoulder. No matter how many stories he’s read about dragons -- of regal beats with age old years of wisdom and intelligence -- if one is hurting innocents, he can’t stand idly by. They couldn’t have chosen him if they didn’t think he could do it. _

_ “Father Raemund has prepared a sword for you,” Anibelle gestures down the road which leads to the church. “It is a sacred blade; one that has resided in this village for a long time. He is seeing to the blessings before you go. Should there be a dragon, it will aide you.” _

_ The idea still bothers him, but Sorey doesn’t show it and offers an easy smile. Maybe, if he’s lucky, the rumours are just rumours. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone has been paranoid and seen something in the dark that wasn’t there. This is, however, the first time he’s ever seen the village so tense. Rumours like this are usually quick to fade; the fact that it’s suck so long make Sorey’s stomach churn. _

_ He knew how to fight and defend himself, that was easy, but a dragon? Where could he even start? _

_ “We’re so grateful for all your help, Sorey,” Anibelle’s tone softens and she lowers her arm. “I wish we did not have to rely on you for so much.” _

_ “It’s okay, really,” he smiles again. “Everyone in the village does so much for Elysia; we have to be able to help one another.” _

_ “You’re a good boy,” Anibelle hums and turns to walk down the road. “Come, I will join you at the church and see you to the edge of the forest. It is the least I can do.” _

* * *

The trek up the mountain is easy; Sorey knows the land like the back of his hand. He knows where the ground has grown weak and crumbles, which rocks to leave untouched to avoid collapse, and how to navigate the shorter -- and more difficult -- forest path that ends not far from the crystal river. Monsters, he knows, are inevitable, no matter where he may go, and the weight of a sword is not foreign to him. Yet, as he runs his hand over the intricate ornamental blade that hands from his belt -- blessed, the priests told him, for the purpose of swift and scale-shattering kills -- he laments this one feels so much heavier.

It carries the weight of his task, the safety of his home, and so many lives with it should he fail.

As he exits the forest and approaches the river, Sorey allows his pack to slide from his shoulders to the grass below. His face glimmers with sweat and he kneels eagerly by the bank. He casts his gloves aside and sighs in relief as he dips his hands into the cool water.

It feels wonderful and easily washes away the dirt and much that has clung to him on his journey. The air is, admittedly, cooler than the land below, but the mountain is steep and relentless; exertion and strength are needed to conquer it, and the path is not meant for the elderly or faint of heart. It is what makes the river such a blessing; clean, refreshing water that feels as if it revitalizes the weary to carry them the rest of the way.

As always, he bows his head after a few deep gulps and murmurs a prayer under his breath. They are but words, he knows, but in his heart, he hopes that the spirits which live on the mountain can hear them. He is always grateful for their presence. 

When his prayer is finished, Sorey falls back and raises his face to the scattered sunbreams that break through the threes. His eyes close as he inhales deep and relishes in the birdsong and gentle babble of the water. This small heaven halfway up the mountain is his most cherished in the world, even more than his home or anywhere on the earth below. It is pure here, and the presence of a dragon, he thinks, or at least, an evil one, is impossible.

And then the ground rumbles. 

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and bends to grab his pack as he darts for the trees. The rumble isn’t normal -- it’s not  _ natural _ \-- and he feels his chest grow tight with dread as the wind picks up and a cry fills the air.

Above him, the leaves dance violently with the wind as a creature unlike Sorey has ever seen fills the sky. Its long, thick, serpent-like body seems to swing through the air; circling and twisting in elegant loops and spirals. The shadow of its body against the sun makes it hard to see, but soon, the mysterious creature -- the  _ dragon _ , Sorey tells himself, it must be -- dives without warning. The movement is as smooth as liquid pouring from a pitcher, filled with more grace than Sorey imagined a body of such size could possess. 

Two legs with claws that could easily tear any human apart touchdown, followed by the body and a long tail that curls around itself with ease. Large leather wings fold and settle against its sides in a way that reminds Sorey of a bird. Scales cover the dragon’s body, each one beginning as a brilliant and glimmering white that fades into a gentle shade of blue. The neck, slim, elegant, and long leads to a short muzzle with sharp features and absolutely stunning amethyst eyes -- Sorey swears they must be glowing with how bright they are. In the middle of its forehead is a gem, green as the freshest grass and glimmering under the light of the sun. Curved spins coloured the same gradient as the scales run the length of the creature’s body, starting a short distance from the gem and follow the spine down to the tip of its tail. 

_ Beautiful _  isn’t the right word, it’s not strong enough, and for a moment, Sorey completely forgets what it is he was sent here for as he watches it amble -- shakily, he realizes, without the smooth movement he’d seen before -- into the water and dips its head.

It happens in slow motion, so slow, Sorey doesn’t even notice at first, but the dragon’s body begins to shrink. It’s almost the body is retracting into itself; the tail and neck recede toward the torso and sink into the water. Soon, it is completely out of sight and for a brief, confusing moment, Sorey thinks he’s imagined it all. Perhaps he’d simply gotten too comfortable in the grass under the sunlight and nodded off again. He’s done it before, but he really needs to wake up if he has. 

What if the dragon attacks the village while he sleeps?

Suddenly, the river’s surface breaks and Sorey jumps. His gaze snaps into focus and he can’t help but gape as a body very much  _ not  _ a dragon stands in the middle of the gentle current.

Unable to stop himself, Sorey blinks several times and rubs his eyes, looking between the bank and the startlingly  _ human _ looking presence in the water. Right where the dragon had been. Certainly it had to be a dream -- a dragon turning into a  _ human? _ He’d never read about something like that before. Not in history books, at least. He’d heard of it happening in a fairy tale, certainly, but real life? Never. It hadn’t been part of the briefing either.

It’s so unreal, so startling, that he almost misses something that makes his stomach churn violently when he looks back to the spot where the dragon had landed.

The sand and dirt are stained a deep red.

Horrified, Sorey looks back to the stranger, now turned and crouching in the water. Just like the bank, their skin is covered in crimson that pours in small rovers from a large dash on their shoulder. It seems someone has beat him to the punch in trying to stop this so-called monster.

Without thinking, Sorey stumbles out of his hiding spot and rushes toward the water. His boots splash loudly upon contact and the stranger stumbles to their feet, eyes wide in alarm as they scramble backward. His approach, in retrospect, could have been better, calmer, but they’re  _ hurt _ and blood has never been the best for bringing out any sort of common sense in Sorey.

“H-hey, wait…!” He cries out, arm extended as the boy looks ready to run -- fly? -- away. “You’re hurt! I just want to…”

The stranger doesn’t seem to be listening to what Sorey is saying and continues to look upon him in horror. Every so often, his eyes will dart nervously down to Sorey’s waist, and after a couple of moments, Sorey finally understands what is causing so much distress.

“Oh… it’s this, isn’t it?” He motions to the sword and the stranger takes another uneven step back, tense and poised to bolt. It makes Sorey’s chest grow tight. He really hadn’t meant to frighten them more than he already had.

“Wait,” he tries, lowering his voice and trying to appear as docile as he can. He moves -- slow and careful -- and unties the sword from his belt, tossing it blindly over it shoulder. A dull thud assures him it hit the bank and not the water and he sighs silently in relief. He’d feel terrible if he lost the church’s holy sword, but he can’t bring himself to care beyond that. So long as it isn’t lost to the current and it can be returned, he’s satisfied. “I just want to help you,” he assures and touches his bag. “I have medicine with me and… you’re hurt. So please…”

It doesn’t even occur to Sorey that this stranger -- he looks as if he couldn’t be much older than Sorey, if he is at all -- could hurt him. That he could very possibly, in a matter of seconds, turn back into a dragon and tear him apart until there was nothing recognizable left. He just sees blood and pain and wants to help it stop. 

So he waits for them to make a choice, and when they finally seem to relax and sit upon a large boulder in the middle of the water, he smiles. Silence passes between them, but the stranger offers him a small nod of approval and Sorey releases the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Even steps carry Sorey forward as he resists the urge to run. Blood loss is bad for most any creature, but frightening him away will only make it worse. He can’t help someone running.

“May I join you?” he asks and points to the rock. The stranger pauses, but nods, and Sorey offers another smile in gratitude.

There is a lot of blood -- more than should have been normal, but fortunately, there is also a lot of water, which makes rinsing the wound easy. As soon as most of the dried blood is cleared away, Sorey immediately sets to work and tries to clean the gash as bet he’s able. He really only knows human healing remedies, and Sorey can only hope they will work on the stranger as well. They’re quiet the entire time Sorey works, and while the gels earn a wince, their face remains almost completely passive. 

“There…” Sorey grins in satisfaction as he finishes and ties a bandage off before surveying his work. He couldn’t claim to be a doctor, but he likes to think he’s learned enough tricks of the trade in his lifetime. Especially when taking care of so many elders. “That should do it -- the gels are supposed to help speed things up. For healing, I mean.” He digs into his pack and produces another, darker in colour than the ones he’d used before, and holds it out. “You an eat them too. It might make you feel better.”

They don’t react, and Sorey worries if maybe he’s overstepped a boundary.  _ Most _ people wouldn’t accept food from a weirdo they met in the woods without good reason. Not everyone was as trusting as he was, and even he knew he could stand to be more careful. “Um…” he begins, but a pale hand covers his own and slender fingers pluck the treat from his palm.

“I’ve seen you before,” they speak, and their voice is nothing like Sorey imagined it might be. There’s no growl or rumble to it, nor is it sharp or intimidating. It’s soft and gentle, as smooth as the water flowing beneath them. “You pass by here a lot.”

“Y-yeah…!” Sorey chokes out in surprise. His voice squeaks and he wants to hid his face in his hands at just how silly it sounds. Really, he likes to think he would have noticed a  _ dragon _ with all the times he’s taken this path. Though it isn’t surprising if they’re capable of changing into a body this small. “I, uh… I help out with supply runs a lot. Most of the people who live in Elysia are really well trained, but they’re older, so the journey isn’t so easy.”

“The mountain village,” the stranger replies and looks toward the top of the mountain above them. “It used to be a safe haven for holy beings.” He pauses and looks at Sorey from the corner of his eye. “...so the legends have said, anyway.”

“Gramps told me the same thing,” Sorey nods and makes himself more comfortable on the rock. “He called them ‘Seraphim’ and talked about how they could bless the land and help crops grow. He even told me stories about how some of them could create mountains and rivers!”

“You sound like you’ve studied hard.”

“Aha, sort of,” Sorey smiles, sheepish. “I really only know what Grampa has taught me and have I was able to find in the old books up in the village. They sound so incredible… I’d love to meet one someday.”

“Perhaps you have,” the stranger hums and takes a bite of the gel. “Maybe they can hide what they are.”

“Huh…” Sorey tilts his head and considers the idea. Surely if a dragon could change form, a Seraphim could too. He’d have to look into that. There must have been a book or two he missed in Elysia’s library somewhere. “Yeah, I guess I could have.” He grins, the idea is exciting. “That would be so cool!”

The stranger smiles faintly, unseen, and finishes off the gel with another large bite. “You’re… odd.”

“Ahaha…” Sorey rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly, “I get that a lot. I just like to think I’m really... unique.”

The stranger laughs, and Sorey feels his smile melt away into awe. Their eyes -- as deep as the dragon’s were -- are bright, and sparkle with amusement. Long, white hair with gentle curls dances around their shoulders as they tremble with the effort of trying to contain the noise. 

Now that he’s closer, Sorey can also make out the pale blue tips, much like the scales from before, and what looks like a circlet resting upon their forehead. Their skin is flawless and pale, and Sorey can’t help but think the  _ pretty _ he considered earlier seems like an insult now -- they’re beyond beautiful in both forms.

“...kleo.” 

Sorey jumps and gives his head a firm shake, confused, “Huh?”

“I said my name is Mikleo. ...I live on this mountain.”

“O-oh…” Sorey’s lips part and he repeats the name under his breath several times. It’s perfect, he thinks, and offers Mikleo his hand in delight. “I’m Sorey; it’s really nice to meet you.”

“Sorey…” Mikleo looks down at the offered hand and raises his own, bumping their wrists together in a greeting Sorey doesn’t quite understand, but feels a rush upon contact. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

* * *

The next time Sorey returns to the village, he is not alone. The residents of Camlann are unable to hide their surprise as Sorey guides the beautiful stranger around their village. He is young and carries a ethereal beauty unlike any human they’ve ever seen. The only way to Elysia is through Camlann, but when asked where he is from, the stranger -- Mikleo they learn when he introduces himself -- merely smiles and says “somewhere far away.”

Sorey offers them no more by means of an answer, but assures the villagers that the dragon they imagined was nothing more than a rabid monster. Rumors grew too wild, he insists, and offers a large pelt as proof that they are safe when he returns the church’s sword. 

“Besides,” he grins and changes the topic eagerly, “with Mikleo here to help me, I can bring even more medicine and supplies. The winters shouldn’t be so hard anymore.”

The questions soon fade as the trades begin and the mysterious origins of the boy are deemed unimportant. Every visit that follows, they are together, shoulders pressed close enough that they touch and communicate in such a way it leaves even the priests baffled.

But still, they bring supplies, and medicines even better than before. Sorey, it is easy to see, is thrilled, and he and Mikleo move around each other with such a natural fluidity, it seems pointless to question.

The rumours of the beast soon fade, and in their place, come stories of a beautiful, winged creature and its rider that guard the mountain and forest. Glimpses of their presence are seen by travellers for many thousands of years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out it wasn't a monster after all. Just a hot dragon boy for Sorey to gush over. /slapped Ah, the power of rumours and shadows...
> 
> Forever and a half ago, I posted this story, then shortly took it down because I wanted to play with it more. I really wanted to turn this into a multi-chapter fix, and maybe someday I will if people are interested. Or maybe a series of one-shots that talk about their adventures and how they end up ~~falling in love in like two seconds~~ bonding and all that cute stuff. Who knows. Just something about their lives.


End file.
